


Love and Simplicity: A Murder on Galactica

by misscam



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-09
Updated: 2009-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started like it always did. With a body. It wasn't Laura Roslin's. But it was clearly intended to be. [Adama/Roslin, Tigh, some Kara/Lee, tiny Helo/Athena, Baltar, Doc Cottle]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-Blood on the Scales, pre-Deadlock. With BSG's timeline being a little confused, I'm just mushing this in there as if it belongs. Ahem. There is a reworked Babylon 5 line in here, you'll know it if you see it. I owe much thanks **falena84** and **lotus79** , who both pushed, begged, mocked and helped me with this story. Many thanks to **lyricalviolet** for beta.

Love and Simplicity: A Murder on Galactica 1/2  
by **misscam**

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

II

It started like it always did. With a body.

This one was on Galactica, and it was hard to tell she had once been beautiful. What she had, the bullet had fast taken away from her, stolen her life and the colour in her skin.

All that we are, or that we think we are, all that we are certain about, is taken away from us. When you see the end of the world, you become more convinced of it every day.

William Adama is, standing over a dark-haired woman's body in the President's temporary quarters and trying not to think at all.

It isn't Laura Roslin. But it was clearly intended to be, and his heart by association.

It started like it always did, with a body. It would end as if often does too.

With another.

II

It's a strange thing to have two murders targeting you, Laura Roslin thinks, and there's something almost amusing in the thought.

Cancer, or unknown attacker. Why would either bother if the other could just do the job?

Bill has been giving the details of the discovery in such an even voice most would probably consider him calm. She does not. She can see his eyes and him, and she wants to lace her fingers in his hair and kiss him until he isn't seeing her body as the one dead instead.

Later, she thinks, and folds her hands to keep them steady.

"Nia Catelony," she says softly. "She was there to gather a few things for me I'd left behind."

"The attacker might not have known you're not staying there anymore," Tigh says, and she half expects him to comment on where she is staying, but he doesn't.

"It is possible," she agrees. Who would have thought the President would move in with the Admiral, sharing bunk, hearts and morning algea coffee?

Not Saul Tigh, she's pretty frakking sure. But then, neither did the President or the Admiral to begin with. It simply happened.

"We'll have to look at motive," she says, keeping her voice even.

"Perhaps it's someone displeased with what we found on Earth," Tigh suggests.

"That would only narrow it down to 40,000," she quips, and both men give her a look. Tigh's is for a moment amused, Bill's is just stern.

"I don't think Galactica's brig could hold them all," Tigh says dryly. "I will narrow it further, Madam President."

"You?" Bill asks before Laura can say anything, and his tone makes her fingers curl a little.

"Me," Saul Tigh simply says, and meets Laura's gaze briefly. "You're too close, Bill."

A breath, and she thinks for a moment Bill means to challenge it, then he merely nods.

Too close, she thinks and Bill's eyes are so blue as they meet hers in a silent look. Yes.

Much too close.

II

There are two ways of killing someone.

Taking their life, or taking what they have to live for.

Admiral Adama lives (mainly) for the President, his son and his ship.

It's hard to kill Galactica. The other two can be managed.

II

When Saul has left, Laura walks up and embraces him; Bill nuzzles his face against her neck as she puts her arms around his.

They don't say anything for a long time, just hold.

II

Colonial One still feels like her ship, Lee thinks. Laura Roslin's, for all Gaius Baltar claimed it for a while and even briefly Tom Zarek.

She might have passed it on to him now, but he can still feel her presence here and even sometimes his father's, faintly.

He's never wanted to replace either but he has been a military commander, and now he is doing a president's work, as if he's a joint project between them. They're good at those, except when they're not. (Zarek and Gaeta's mutiny, for one.) Survival for the Fleet has been an ongoing one, now the project seems to be a life between them.

Lee isn't jealous. Not really. He can be happy for them, and a little awkward about it at the same time.

He just wishes he knew how they made love so simple; all he ever seems to kiss is complications.

II

Colonel Tigh doesn't say much as the body is rolled into sick bay for autopsy, but Cottle is a doctor and knows bodies; their language too.

Trouble. Other than the one thousand troubles they already have.

Some days, he really hates this life.

Other days, he just helps people to have one.

II

"It must be someone with access on Galactica," Laura reasons, and she thinks Bill nods; it's hard to tell when he's tracing kisses along the side of her neck, almost in sync with her pulse. "Has there been anyone speaking up against me lately?"

(Later than Earth, she thinks.)

"They wouldn't dare," he says firmly, hands soft against her cleavage as he opens the buttons in her shirt.

(Oh, but they would, she knows. They did, against her and Bill both.)

"Bill," she says, sliding her shirt off and to the floor, "you know..."

"I know," he cuts in, and he kisses her slowly and thoroughly until she can feel his chest rise and fall a little raggedly under her hand. "Laura..."

"I'm here," she whispers, a reassurance to herself as much as him. "I'm right here."

(For now, she doesn't say.)

II

"Colonel Tigh!"

Tigh doesn't exactly look happy to see him, Lee reflects, almost as if he is a walking root canal about to happen.

He'll try not to take it personally.

"Vice President," Tigh acknowledges, pausing in the hallway just long enough for Lee to catch up and join in. "How can I help the civilian government today?"

"A body was found in the President's temporary quarters," Lee says, and Tigh shoots him a look that manages to be annoyed, a little impressed and mostly unwilling to comment all at once.

"It's not Laura Roslin."

"She's not staying there, I know. But it would seem she is the likely target."

"Maybe."

"That makes it a civilian matter too."

"No," Tigh says firmly. "You're not joining the investigation."

"I have different sources. A lot of pilots still talk to me, and several ship captains have networks I could..."

"The Old Man won't like it."

"He's not my commanding officer anymore."

"The President won't like it either."

Lee smiles faintly. "She'll think it the wrong thing to do. But she did want me to try those more often."

Tigh eye him for a moment, as if weighing his words, then nods a little curtly. "You'll follow my lead. No trying to be hero Apollo, sleuth top gun."

"Yes, sir," Lee says, trying to keep amusement out of his voice and suceeding just barely.

Tigh's gaze is strangely soft for a moment. "You'll never be an expert at wrong. You're the Old Man's son. Get a second-in-command to cover that field instead."

II

"Zarek," Laura says, arching her back a little as Bill lowers her on the blankets, his mouth at a breast and her fingers in his hair. "Zarek would have wanted me dead."

"Zarek is dead. I think that qualifies as an alibi," Bill mutters as he lifts her head, and she meets his eyes for a moment before they both laugh.

(It isn't really that funny, but it feels good to laugh and the universe isn't exactly offering up a lot of reasons to.)

"One of Zarek's many 'friends', then."

"Discussing who would want to kill you is not much of a turn-on, Laura," he says, but he still lifts her knee to kiss it. She slides it across his side, coming to rest against his hip as he leans over her.

"You're managing," she simply observes, but the look he gives her is a little hurt. "Sorry. I guess I've read too many murder mysteries to resist one in front of me."

"Why do you love mystery novels?" he murmurs, and it's hard to formulate an answer in her head when his fingers is making her buck slightly, even as they're careful in their strokes.

"Figuring it out," she finally replies, kissing him a little sloppily as he chuckles, the sound reverberating against her tongue. "Why do you?"

"Because they can be figured out," he says, and she thinks of all the things that can't be lately and before that, so much before too. "They're simple."

Bill likes it simple, and she watches the muscles on his arms flex as he puts weight on them rather than her, adjusting his body over her. She lifts herself up as he slides into her, pausing to watch her face for any discomfort. His jaw is clenched with the effort, and she lifts her hand to touch it for a moment before pulling his head down to kiss him, biting down lightly on his lower lip when his body moves again.

Simple, she thinks. Bill loves Laura and Laura loves Bill, and everything else is complications. Cancer. Earth being frak all. Strains on Galactica. Cylon-human relations. Post-mutiny issues.

They can have their murder mystery without those.

II

"She got shot and died," Doc Cottle says, blowing some smoke, and Lee watches it curl and rise until it flattens out, as if hitting an invisible roof.

"They give you medical degrees for that?" Tigh asks, and Lee knows that tone. It's the bastard tone, and Tigh has perfected it over years of use.

"They give medical degrees for telling you there were two shots, both from behind," Cottle simply replies, not rising to anything. "Victim was standing at the first shot. She had fallen for the second, so it must have been fired several seconds later."

"Making sure she was dead," Lee says, and both men give him a look as if they'd even forgotten he was there.

"You're the detectives, you figure it out," Cottle says calmly, blowing more smoke. "I'm just the certified doctor."

II

Post-coital with Bill is starting to feel a little bit like an argument, Laura thinks, and she really shouldn't be feeling like hitting him with a book so close to having frakked him.

"No," she says, folding her arms. "I am not staying here like a prisoner until the Colonel completes his investigation, I am especially not taking Centurion bodyguards and I'm not having you babysit me. I'm not, Bill. I won't take any unnecessary chances, but I'm not letting a killer take half my life already."

"I'm not babysitting," he says, his palm sliding across her elbow and up her arm in a motion that is very distracting to the argument she is determined not to let him win. "I'm partnering."

"Partnering?"

"You and me," he says, words so light on his tongue, "and a murder mystery."

"You were never going to let the Colonel look into this alone, were you?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"No," he says, and his lips are warm as they slide across hers. "Neither were you."

II

"No guards at her temporary quarters," Tigh says thoughtfully, watching marines walk down the hall. "The Old Man would have called them off after she moved into his quarters."

"Is it common knowledge she has?" Lee asks, trying not to remember how he found out. Some things should not be walked in on.

"That's a good question, Apollo. Is it?"

"I'll ask around," Lee offers, pulling up his note book. He might have to make a trip to the Astral Queen too, he figures, see what the mutineers might have known as well. This could be connected to the mutiny, for all his father won't like that.

"Notebook," Tigh says, tilting his head. "You have a magnifying glass in there too?"

"I'm just..." Lee starts, and Tigh waves it off.

"Yes, you're methodical and by the book, you always were. But you're not seeing me in a frakking hat and pipe, so forget it."

Impossible to get that image out of his head now, Lee thinks.

II

Laura has never considered herself a cloak and daggers woman, but dressed in some of her more casual clothes, she can't help but feel a small thrill.

Bill is out of uniform too, but carrying a weapon at his side and even without Admiral's pips, he still carries authority in his skin. It's enough to convince the marine guards not to follow them, but it's not helping much with looking incognito, at least to her.

Still.

It's a little thrill and a little reckless, and Bill's thumb is stroking hers slowly as they walk hand in hand, not attracting too many glances. Or perhaps the crew are too polite to comment, given the Adama stare they're likely to get for it.

"You really think we should talk to _him_?" Bill grumbles, and she can tell he's not exactly ecstatic about her idea. Come to think of it, neither is she.

"He's Baltar," she says, "who else will think he knows everything and will be eager to prove it?"

II

It's a hard choice, Lee reflects, between the Admiral's displeasure and the Colonel's. He doesn't envy the two marines currently getting a lecture from Tigh about letting the Admiral and the President walk out without an escort.

They were obeying orders, but that's not holding up much.

"My father is not one to hide," Lee observes, remembering. "Neither is Laura."

"I'm going to ground them both," Tigh says, marching out and Lee rather thinks he would.

In the brig, if necessary.

II

For a moment, Baltar thinks he's dreaming.

There's a comfortable bed, as there should be. There are women, and that's the stuff his dreams are made of. There's Laura Roslin, and that happens too sometimes, though she usually doesn't bring the Admiral to watch.

Admiral Adama doesn't look too impressed. Or too Admiral, without his uniform, and this isn't a dream, Baltar realises. Neither one is looking like they're about to kiss him. This is waking up, and he has visitors.

Laura waves, and all Baltar can think of is waving back.

II

Lee has exactly two thoughts when he hears the shot.

The first is that he can't really be mistaken for Laura Roslin, surely, and if so, he's never wearing red shirts again.

The second is just 'oh, _frak_ '.

II

Starbuck sleeps by Sam's side sometimes, as if waking by him could be waking with him. Between sleep and awake is a moment of hope, and she finds herself resenting every noise that takes her from one state to the other too fast.

She hates the sound of rushed feet into sickbay.

She hates it even more when she finds out it's Lee, just having been shot at.

II

"I'm flattered you would come to me, Madam President," Baltar says, and Laura can tell that indeed, he is. That's good. He's easier to handle then, and she'll flatter him as much as she can stand, because Bill is going to be totally useless at it.

She thinks she loves him a little for that too.

"I would not want you taken from us too soon," Baltar goes on, and she smiles a little sarcastically at him.

"Likewise," she offers.

"As a good citizen of the Fleet I will of course do my part in solving this crime," Baltar says, and Bill makes a noise that might be a snort. "A lot of people listen to me, I could put out a few feelers."

She inclines her head. "We would be grateful."

She can almost see Baltar pat himself on the back, and even more so at his next words. "Whatever protection I can offer is also yours. I have a few with experience as body guards, they would be more than happy to follow you, Madam President. Very discreetly. I could even..."

"No," Bill says, and his look is one of stone. He rises, and she rises a second later, feeling his hand come to rest on her back, just a little possessively.

She doesn't need a bodyguard, she thinks. She rather already has one, and Baltar seems to realise the same from the way he looks at her.

"We look forward to hearing from you," she says sweetly, and he actually smiles genuinely. It isn't just the flattery, she realises. He does want to help.

He's just still Baltar about it.

II

"Ow," Lee says, gritting his teeth a little. " _Ow_."

"It's just a glancing wound, don't be a baby," Cottle says, tying off the last stitch. In fact, no one seems particular impressed with his wound, Lee notes. Tigh is scowling at him, as if daring to get shot while with him is just plain rude, and Kara is hovering in the background with a look on her face that suggests murder.

He just hopes it isn't of him.

"Any sign of the shooter?" he asks, and Tigh shakes his head.

"I got marines out looking. It would be easier if we had a better description."

"It's a bit hard to see when you got your back to," Lee defends himself with, wincing at the prick of a needle. Cottle doesn't seem particularly impressed with that either.

"Hmm," Tigh just says, and sounds distracted.

"I'm targeted, Laura is targeted – an attack on the civilian government?" Lee asks, and he can see Tigh has considered that, but is considering something else now.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking what ties you both together is the Old Man," Tigh says, and Lee feels a cold prickle down his neck.

II

The metal of Galactica is a little hard against her back she leans against it, but it holds, and that seems more than enough to ask of it of late, Laura thinks.

She knows what Bill worries about, and even if he hadn't told her, she would have known from the lines on his face and the sometimes lingering taste of alcohol on his breath.

He's earned peace more than anyone she knows, and the portion of it he finds in her fills her with quiet joy. She just wishes there was more. For both of them.

"Joe's bar," she repeats thoughtfully.

"Some might have overheard drunken ramblings," Bill says, and she nods. "A lot of the crew go there."

"I wish I had seen more of your ship," she says, a little wistfully even to her. All they've been sharing of late, and Galactica should be a part of it. It's important enough to Bill for that.

"I'll show you," he says, touching her cheek as he leans into her. "Joe's bar first."

"It's a date," she replies, and he smiles slowly, taking years off his face.

Galactica at her back, Adama at her front, like an embrace twice, she thinks, and Bill's kiss is so very gentle.

II

Lee doesn't make a sound of protest when she pulls him into a corner and drags a curtain to cover the view, but Kara can see the question marks on his face like little wrinkles, reminding her a little of his father.

Lee is going to get to that age, and anyone who has issues with that can get frakked.

A bullet's taking Sam from her, and another came inches away from claiming Lee. Bullets. Just metal, but just flesh can't stop them.

"Lee," she says angrily, kissing him with all aggression that isn't really targeted at him. "Don't you dare get frakking murdered."

"I am trying not to," he says when she pulls back for a moment, and it only makes her attack his lips again, keeping him in place with a hand clutching his tie.

"Don't try," she says harshly. "Do." _Live._

She can feel his eyes on her as she walks away, but she doesn't look back.

She has some heads to smack together. 

(To be concluded in part two.)


	2. Chapter 2

Love and Simplicity: A Murder on Galactica 2/2  
by 

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

II

A low hum in the bar seems to die a little as they walk in, but Bill's hand stays firmly in hers and he merely looks across the crowd until voices pick up again.

Laura's pretty sure a few conversations have changed topic, though. 'Did you know about the Admiral and the President? He's not even hiding it!'

He's not, she thinks. He's making it very clear going after her is going after him.

Hmm.

Going after him...

She doesn't quite listen as Bill strikes up a conversation with the bartender, merely thinks and considers and turns over what they do know in her head. The whole Fleet knows of her cancer, and most on Galactica would know of her earlier treatments and perhaps reason out the prognosis is not good.

Who bothers murdering a dying women?

A hush falls over the bar again, and she looks up to see Kara at the entrance, shadows and light across her face as if she's both and neither.

"Someone on this ship is a dead person walking," Kara says evenly. "Tell me what I want to know, and it won't be you."

II

Starbuck, Apollo thinks. Frakking Starbuck. Push and pull to drive anyone insane, and he can just never seem to escape her gravity and yet never be quite in orbit.

Frakking Starbuck, he hasn't done enough of. Not that it would solve anything, but it would at least make the puzzle more enjoyable.

"Apollo, stop looking like you're mooning," Tigh says sharply, and Lee looks up. "You're as bad as the Old Man."

"Right," Lee murmurs. "What are we looking at?"

"The mutiny," Tigh says, and for a moment, his voice carries steel. "If this is about the Old Man, it could be someone from Gaeta's side. We cleaned out those we found of his little group, but we may have missed some."

"And if you did?"

"Then it's time to pay them a visit and play good cop and bad cop. You're not the bad one."

II

A quiet corner, and Kara is telling them about the attempt on Lee's life, and making use of more than one colourful metaphor for what the attacker might expect coming.

Bill doesn't say anything, but Laura can feel his hand in her lap ball slightly, and she strokes her fingers across his knuckles reassuringly.

Lee, she thinks. Lee, and her, and there are two things she can think of that they have in common. One is 'president' in their title.

The other is sitting next to her, and she might not have a basestar this time, but she will keep him alive. She will, and meeting Kara's gaze, she knows she's not alone.

"The Colonel has men out looking," Kara says, shaking her head a little. "For you too."

"Do we know it's not a marine?" Laura asks, and both look at her. "Hiding in plain sight, armed already, instilling a sense of security... We've had to take in more people to cover for those lost in the mutiny, haven't we?"

"Yes," Bill says, and for a moment, grief seems etched on his face. "We're short."

Kara stands up abruptly. "I'll bring in the cat."

"Starbuck..."

"Sir, they're not going to tell _you_ about a murder plot against the President. Especially not when she's with you. And Lee's your son."

"I know," Bill says, and the affection he looks at Kara with makes Laura smile a little. Bill's family. So very Bill's family. "Don't do anything stupid, Starbuck."

"You know me, sir. It's what I'm best at."

II

"You're telling me several marines have seen the Admiral and President frolic through the halls, and haven't told me?" Tigh asks, and it manages to sound remarkably like 'do they _have_ a death wish?'

"Yes, sir," Hoshi says quietly. "Sir, they're apparently more scared of the Admiral than you, sir."

"That's a surprise," Lee remarks brightly, and Tigh gives him a scalding look.

"If it helps any, it's a close call, sir. I believe the President's presence was a deciding factor," Hoshi offers.

"Hoshi?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get scarier."

"Yes, sir."

II

As they leave, one bar patron slides a piece of paper over to Bill, and he picks it up without comment.

Laura doesn't say anything either, but she does smile a little.

It's still Bill's ship, she thinks.

II

"Hey, Woodchuck!"

There are a few places a man could expect some privacy, Santo reflects. About to take a piss is one of them.

"Starbuck," he says evenly.

"Eaten more wood lately?"

Get drunk and nibble on just one chair, and you never hear the last of it, Santo thinks.

"No, just algea," he says brightly. "Frakked more Cylons lately?"

Starbuck tilts her head and looks down him, smiling a little. "Jealous, Chuck? As pleasant as it is watching you pee, I'm not here for that. What do you know about someone going after the President, the VP and maybe the Old Man?"

"Someone wants to kill our esteemed leaders? What do I care?"

"You care," Starbuck says, "because if you don't tell me what you know, I will ram this toilet so far up your frakking ass I'll be peeing through your mouth. You will care about that, trust me."

II

Bill does know his ship, and Laura finds herself wandering halls she has never seen, not even while running through. It is a big ship, and she's starting to feel a little breathless.

"What?" Bill asks softly when she touches his arm, and taking a look at her he immediately puts a supporting arm around her.

"Just catching my breath," she says, trying to smile. It doesn't change the look on his face, and he leads her a few steps to a hatch, and punching some numbers, opens it to guide her inside. It's some sort of storage, she notes, and he pulls out a box for her to sit at. He kneels down by her, a hand on her knee as he watches her steady her breath a little.

"Maybe you should get some rest," he offers.

"Not without you," she says firmly. "Besides, if we go back to your quarters, I think the Colonel might lock us both in."

Bill chuckles a little, even if she wasn't really joking and she loves the sound too much to correct him.

"Bill? What if this isn't about me?"

He looks at her, and she knows he has been considering the same possibility since they heard about Lee.

"It makes more sense if it's you," she says softly. "I'm dying. It would be rather pointless to kill me."

"No," he says. "Not pointless. Not dying. You're..."

He breathes, leaning his forehead against her and she watches his lips, but he doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to, when she knows and he knows she knows.

She's this, she thinks, and kisses him because she loves him.

It doesn't have to be more complicated than that.

II

If Tigh is a little surprised to get Baltar calling, he doesn't betray it in his voice. He merely listens, even making polite noises at the appropriate places and hanging up with an almost sincere, "Thank you, doctor".

"The Old Man and the President went to Baltar," he tells Lee, sounding torn between disgusted and impressed. "Apparently, he looked into the matter for them and have heard rumours some associates of Zarek have been in contact with Galactica."

"Zarek," Lee says, shaking his head a little.

"Even dead, he manages to be bad news," Tigh mutters. "Right. Astral Queen was Zarek's little happy place. Lets see if there's been any calls made from there to Galactica of late."

II

There's a time and place for everything. For frakking the Admiral, this is probably neither.

But time is a commodity and Laura will take as much of it as she can have and place, well, the place is still Galactica and it feels a little like her home too now.

Through him, she thinks.

He's hard inside her, but his kisses are soft and his hands are gentle, and the contrast of it sends a flush to her face. She is humming into his skin, the military blankets he's wrapped around them seeming to encase them in a cocoon and the only sounds here theirs.

He breathes, and groans when she clenches her muscles a little around him, and she thinks all the noises of him lovely, and most of all his voice.

"This isn't much resting," he whispers, stroking strands of her wig out of her face, kissing the heat in her cheeks and watching her writhe a little as he moves.

It's enough, she thinks, no breath to answer.

She does have breath to cry out a little later when he finally coaxes her over the edge; he takes the sound of it in a kiss.

II

Starbuck isn't that great at knocking, Helo thinks, but at least she doesn't seem particularly bothered to be walking in on him with a hand down Athena's flightsuit.

"Kara," he says, trying to look dignified and wondering why she has a bruise at her temple. It can't be good news.

"Agathons," Starbuck greets back. "I need some friends. You got five minutes to get done. I'll be outside. Try not to be loud."

She leaves, leaving both Helo and Athena to look after her.

"She's grumpy of late," Helo says, and Athena looks at him, age in her eyes.

"It hurts to die," Athena says quietly. "Even if it's not permanent. I'll excuse grumpy."

II

"What was on that note?" Laura asks, and Bill frees one of his hands from hers long enough to show her two scribbled words. A name.

"Rita Castial? But Bill, I know her. She was on New Caprica. She died during the occupation. What connection could she have to this?"

"I don't know," Bill says, his cheek brushing across hers as he shifts position a little. "But I wonder if she had a family."

II

"Joel Castial," Tigh says, turning to Lee as he hangs up. "He logged a call to the Astral Queen yesterday. Interesting thing, Apollo, is that he died in the mutiny."

"Dead man calling?"

"I've had enough returns from the dead," Tigh says, with a look on his face that Lee is convinced would raise the dead in a heartbeat from pure fear. "It's a waste of a funeral."

II

"Woodchuck spilled some interesting things while taking a leak," Starbuck says, Athena and Helo trailing her as she walks. "A few associates of Zarek's have been talking to those not so happy how Gaeta's little coup turned out. Word is, they're not getting too many ears, but they're frakking persistent."

"And we're going to...?"

"Find out which ears they did get," Starbucks says evenly. "And box them in."

II

"You're going to get Hoshi in trouble, making him not tell the Colonel you called," Laura says, but she can't quite keep a little amusement out of her voice. "You'll have to promote him to make up for it."

"Remind me," Bill says, and there's a little laughter in his eyes too.

"What did he say?"

"A Joel Castial served on this ship. He was killed in the mutiny. His next of kin is listed as Rita Castial mother, desceased, and Joesph Castial, only living relative. His father. He has quarters on this ship. He's helping the repairs."

"I see," Laura says quietly, and meets Bill's gaze. Son, she thinks. Lee. Wife. Her, after a fashion. Loss for loss. Revenge. Evening it out.

But that doesn't work, she knows now. Get enough blood on the scales, and it's never even. It's just a wound, and it never stops bleeding.

"I think we better get back," Bill says, and she nods as he takes her hand.

II

"Frak," Lee says as they steer down the halls, trying to match his reading speed with Tigh's walking speed. " Joel Castial was a marine. His father got the frakking uniform. His father! He's been walking around as a marine all along."

"Frak," Tigh echoes, and adds a few colourful phrases of his own. "I sent Bill's marine guards out to search. He can just wait at the Admiral's quarters, and if they come back..."

Frak indeed, Lee thinks.

II

There's a marine outside Bill's quarters, Laura notes. Just one, and her brain screams at her as everything in her head seems to click into place, like magnets meeting.

She yanks Bill back; three seconds later the shots come.

II

The great thing about people trying to kill you, Kara thinks, is how wonderfully alive it always feels when they don't succeed.

"I'm already dead, boys," she says, standing up from where she was taking cover from their gunfire and the two brutes look at her confused, not noticing Helo and Athena coming up behind them again with Very Big Guns. "Now, do you want to find out what it's like or do you want to tell me who you've talked into going after the Admiral?"

Surprisingly, they're not so keen on dead.

II

Bill's body feels strangely all around her, Laura observes, an embrace to keep her alive at the cost of even his life, and she's not all that keen on that possibility. She just doesn't have the breath to tell him, and he might not hear her over shots he's firing in the general direction of their attacker.

In the corner of her eye, she sees movement and wonders if it's friend or foe; she really would be happy to see even Baltar at this point.

II

"He's got dad and Laura pinned down," Lee whispers to Tigh, drawing his weapon carefully. "What do we do?"

"Something really stupid," Tigh says, and steps out. "Hey, Joesph! You want to kill something dear to the Admiral?"

II

"I'm going to kill Saul," Bill mutters, taking a deep breath and slipping something cold into her hands. "Laura? Don't frak your aim this time."

She doesn't have the time to ask him what he means before he stands up too, holding his gun out and dropping it with a clatter to the floor.

"Joesph? You want to kill the actual Admiral?"

II

"Not yet," Joesph Castial says, and Lee gets his first proper look at their killer, marine-clad and weapon pointed squarely at William Adama. "I want you to be dead first, nothing to live for. If you hadn't led us to this... You promised us Earth and a home and my wife is killed on New Caprica when you left us and my son is killed in a mutiny over _you_. Where's my home? Where's my wife and my son? Why should you have those when I don't?"

"I don't know," Bill says after a moment, very quietly. "But I've lost a son and a wife. We've all lost something. It doesn't ease the pain to inflict it on others."

"Yes, it will," Joesph says, tears in his eyes and for a brief moment Lee almost feels pity. "It has to."

"I'm sorry," Laura says quietly from the side where she's stood up without anyone noticing, (what must be) Bill's other gun pointed squarely at Joesph's chest. Lee takes aim with her, and for a moment, it's a frozen tableau of aimed guns.

It's Starbuck who actually shoots.

II

There are a lot of explanations, Laura notes. There always are.

She sits on the couch in Bill's (and hers) quarters and listen to some of them – Starbuck's story of Zarek's associates being in contact with Joesph Castial and more or less setting him up to be lone gunman, Lee about the attempt on him and what he and Tigh reasoned out, Bill's fairly short tale of their own adventures (abridged version) – and tries not to think of the tragedy of it all.

Whole family, she thinks. She knows what that feels like, and she tries not to cry. For Nia Catelony too, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the wrong hair colour too.

Tigh doesn't do anything but glower until Starbuck, Lee, Athena and Helo have all left, then he just walks up to Bill and looks torn between wanting to hug and wanting to punch.

"Just kiss and make up," she says, and both of them look at her. "Or do I have to do it for both of you?"

"Maybe you should," Bill says, eyes bright and she feels his eyes on her all the way as she walks over and kisses Saul softly.

II

Lee Adama doesn't say much as the body is rolled into sick bay for autopsy, but Cottle is a doctor and knows bodies; their language too.

He even agrees.

Too often it ends with another dead body. There's never enough life.

Not even for those who dedicate a life to saving as many as possible.

II

Starbuck is waiting in the hall outside sickbay when Lee exits, and he leans against the wall next to her, feeling tired.

"Nicely timed appearance," he tells her, not having the energy to make it a joke.

"You look like hell," she says, but her smile is almost luminous.

"So do you," he throws back, because it's easy and expected and she smiles even more at it.

She doesn't really, he doesn't say. She looks like Kara, and she might have made him feel like hell sometimes, but she's never looked it. Not through his eyes.

"I wish the world was simple," Lee says, and Kara looks at him, her eyes in shadow.

"You don't know what complicated is," she says.

When he kisses her, she still tastes of it.

II

It's been a long day, Laura thinks, and her body is starting to tell her that very insistently, tallying the damage. Aches in her bones, soreness in her muscles, a few bruises here and there and even something as silly as a lovebite in an awkward place.

Laura Roslin's day of adventure, she thinks, and smiles at Bill as he closes the door behind Tigh.

"Is the Colonel going to forgive us?" she asks lightly, and Bill chuckles.

"In a decade or two."

"So soon?" she jokes, and smiles up at him as he puts an arm around her, nuzzling her against him carefully and intently at the same time. "We have to thank Baltar for his help."

"No, we don't," Bill says firmly. "I'm not thanking Gaius Baltar. I'll not kill him. That's a lot of thanks."

That's a sort of forgiveness too, she thinks, and remembers not killing Gaius Baltar so very well. She's glad she didn't, strange as it seems.

She's even a little glad it was Starbuck who killed Joesph Castial, saving her the choice. She would have, for Bill, but she didn't have to. Selflessly, she can be glad for that.

"You all right?" Bill asks, looking at her and she smiles at him before he has time to get worried.

"Just a little tired."

His eyes are warm as they hold her, and his voice is warmer still. "I think it's bedtime."

"Yes," she agrees, because falling asleep to the sound of him is the most at peace she ever feels and the best rest she can think of.

"We still had a chapter left of 'Murder At the Temple Grounds'," he reminds her, but she can tell from the tone of his voice he isn't much in the mood for that.

"I think," she says softly, leaning into him, "we'll read that tomorrow instead."

Enough murder mysteries for a day, she thinks.

II

She really doesn't know simple, Starbuck thinks. Simple was meant to be Sam, and now he's in sickbay and she wears his bullet around her neck and somewhere along the way, they lost that simple.

Lee, Lee is simple too, loving what he loves, doing what he thinks is right, staying so effortlessly Lee. Lee is simple. It's the sum of them that isn't.

This will be nothing but complications, she thinks, and then doesn't, because she is frakking Lee Adama and there are too many bodily sensations to process to think.

It's better like that.

II

In the morning, Lee untangles himself from Kara's sheets and leaves while she still sleeps. She has Sam's bedside to be at (whatever he shares with Kara doesn't change that, and Kara doesn't change that he still grieves Dee) and he, he goes to see his father.

It takes two knocks before his father opens, in a bathrobe only, looking peaceful and content and quite human. There's Laura too, in a shirt and wrapped in a blanket on the couch, and it is a little awkward.

It is also a little comforting, and he accepts an invitation to breakfast.

"I feel sorry for him," he tells them over algae coffee and scrambled algae and Laura smiles at him with something almost like understanding. "Joesph Castial, I mean."

"He tried to kill you and Laura," Bill says, and Lee can almost hear all the emotion underneath the controlled voice. Almost.

"I know," Lee says, feeling the stitches on his arm hurt a little, and remembering Kara licking them the night before. Best not to think of that. At all. "But he had a family. He lost so much, all taken away from him."

"'All that we are, or that we think we are, all that we are certain about, is taken away from us'," Bill quotes softly, and smiles faintly and a little distantly. "'Love and Bullets'. Good book."

"When you lose everything, it's easy to find something to die for," Laura says, and she looks down at her fingers without seeming to see them, at least until his father tugs at them gently and she looks up. "It's a lot harder to find something to live for."

"All good things are hard," Bill says, and Laura nods slowly.

"Like love?" Lee asks, thinking of Zak and Kara, him and Kara, Sam and Kara, him and Dee, and never quite getting the dance right.

"Love's simple, son," his father says, eyes never leaving Laura. "It doesn't mean life is."

Love, Lee thinks, and watches it in front of him.

Simple as that. Complicated as that.

Life as that.

II

FIN


End file.
